


Skeleton Junk Drawer

by flyingtortoisetoes



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Sburb/Sgrub Sessions, Attempt at Humor, Background Relationships, Breaking the Fourth Wall, Canon-Typical Violence, Classpects (Homestuck), Demonic Possession, Dimension Travel, Doc Scratch Being Creepy, Doomed Timeline(s) (Homestuck), F/F, F/M, M/M, Magical Realism, Meowrails, Necromancy, Not Canon Compliant, Other Ships Not Mentioned in Tags, POV Alternating, Pesterlog(s) (Homestuck), Scourge Sisters, Temporary Character Death, Time Shenanigans, Unreliable Narrator, kind of
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-04
Updated: 2021-02-09
Packaged: 2021-03-10 21:42:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,378
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28024161
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flyingtortoisetoes/pseuds/flyingtortoisetoes
Summary: **currently on hold while i work on other stuff :)At 9:32 on a beautiful Sunday morning, a young woman is found in her Chicago apartment dead as a doornail. The time of death is unknown and the cause is ruled a suicide. The funeral is meant to be a quiet, solemn little event, but much to the horror of those come to pay their respects, the casket is empty. A thorough investigation is launched, although perhaps not thorough enough. Aradia Megido's body has disappeared.Elsewhere, at around the same time, a young man wearing an objectively stupid pair of sunglasses stands over a freshly dug grave, shovel in hand. He checks his watch. Nods impassively. He's right on time.
Relationships: Aradia Megido & Dave Strider, Dave Strider/Karkat Vantas, Rose Lalonde/Kanaya Maryam, Sollux Captor/Aradia Megido
Comments: 4
Kudos: 15





	1. A young woman is roused violently from her slumber.

**Author's Note:**

> As a fair warning, this fic is messy!! It's very very messy and meant to be that way, and it will likely be very very long. I've already written out a couple of chapters and outlined a good portion of what I haven't written yet. I'll try to keep up a steady updating schedule, but with school starting up again for me soon, I'm not sure if I'll be able to stick to it.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aradia receives an unexpected delivery.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tw: mention of suicide

At 9:32 on a beautiful Sunday morning, a young woman is found in her Chicago apartment dead as a doornail. The time of death is unknown and the cause is ruled a suicide. The funeral is meant to be a quiet, solemn little event, but much to the horror of those who came to pay their respects, the casket is empty. A thorough investigation is launched, although perhaps it’s not thorough enough. Aradia Megido's body has disappeared.

Elsewhere, at around the same time, a young man wearing an objectively stupid pair of sunglasses stands over a freshly dug grave, shovel in hand. He checks his watch-

WOAH, WOAH, WOAH.

PAUSE.

REWIND.

REVERSE.

GO BACK.

We’re gonna have to back it the fuck up a little bit...

_What is this shit?_

What the hell is going on here? What’s all this about Sunday mornings and a young woman found dead (oh wow that death should not have been ruled a suicide, good God who's in charge of that investigation?) and empty caskets and cool dudes standing over graves?

...

You have no idea, do you?

…

Right. Of course. That’s what I thought. Well this is embarrassing. My apologies. I must have gotten ahead of myself. It’s a pretty easy mistake to make when you’re the poor fucker tasked with cleaning up and closing all these timeloops. This is a total mess. No, don’t laugh. Don’t... no, seriously, who the fuck did this? I would say that I should kick their ass for fucking so bad with so many timelines, but I’m looking at them right now—now being my present your future, that is—and I think it’s safe to say that their ass is getting sufficiently kicked. No need for me to intervene.

Anyways. Where was I…? Oh, right. I got ahead of myself. Have I mentioned how embarrassed I am yet?

Oh. I have…. Oh! Oh wait! This can be fixed easy-peasy… Let me just... Uhhhhh. Hm. Okay, I’m... just… gonna.... Ah. Here we go. Yes, this should work.

Let’s start… _here_.

*******

**Wednesday** , **June 12, 3:17 a.m.**  
 **Chicago, Illinois**

A young woman is roused violently from her slumber. She jolts upright, lips parted in a silent scream and gasping for air. Her eyes snap open, pupils blown wide. A thin sheen of sweat coats her face and neck and her heart is pounding. She kicks off the sheets that had entangled themselves around her legs while she had been asleep and tumbles out of bed and onto the floor with a resounding thud, where she lies on her back, chest rising and falling rapidly with each dry, strangled mix between a sob and a cough that forces its way from her throat.

"Fuck," she manages to wheeze out in between labored, frantic breaths before freezing, closing her mouth so fast her teeth click painfully together, but she barely registers the pain. She's too focused on the realization that _something had woken her up_. The fear coursing through her veins in a sudden horrible resurgence seems to be affecting her ability to breathe and she feels as if she's choking.

She focuses on her breathing, staying as silent as possible. Finally, after what seems like an eternity, she determines that she’s alone in her room, meaning she’s probably safe, and the initial fear begins to ebb away, which allows the tension to start leaving her body. Her posture slackens, but she stays right where she is for a moment longer, staring at the ceiling with unfocused eyes, struggling to remember what had sent her into such a panic. She'd been asleep. She wouldn't have been able to know if it was an outside stressor, so it must have been a dream, right? And if it was a dream, her reaction was enough to convince her it would almost certainly have been a nightmare. But she usually remembers her dreams. So why can't she remember this one? She lets out a deep sigh and shifts into a sitting position, burrowing one hand into the thick knots and tangles of her hair, made especially messy by last night's tossing and turning, no doubt. She turns on her phone to look at the time, cursing under her breath and dropping it when the bright light assaults her eyes. After a few seconds of letting her eyes adjust she moves to look at her phone again.

Right as she manages to make out the time, loud knocking on her door causes her to jump and hit the back of her head against her nightstand. She releases a much louder stream of curses as she rubs her head and struggles to her feet. She continues to mutter expletives under her breath as she stomps over to her door, fists clenched at her sides. She squints through the peephole to see, of all things, a pizza delivery girl standing in the hall. What the fuck?

She stares through the peephole for a moment, seriously considering just going back to sleep until the girl standing outside her door looks right at her. Well, right at the peephole, but it’s still unnerving.

She pulls back from the door and chews on her lip, considering her options for a moment before letting out a long, dejected sigh and unlocking the door, pulling it open.

"I didn't order a pizza," she says at the same time the delivery girl says, "Aradia Megido?"

Oh, for fuck’s sake.

"I didn't order a pizza," Aradia says again through gritted teeth, this time speaking slower, overenunciating her words carefully. She fixes a steely gaze on the other girl, who appears completely unbothered.

"I know." The delivery girl shrugs indifferently as if that were common knowledge.

Aradia zeroes in on her with narrowed eyes and looks her up and down. She's got an angular, almost awkward appearance with a slightly unsettling, shark-toothed grin and she's wearing red sunglasses. Indoors. At 3:20 in the morning. It's weird, but whatever. Aradia decides to ignore it for now and focus on the patch on her delivery uniform instead, which reads Prospit Pizzeria. Aradia lifts an eyebrow at that. What the fuck is Prospit Pizzeria? It's certainly not in her area. She'd have been there before if it was. "That's nice," Aradia says dryly, "Why are you at my door with one in the middle of the fucking night? Do you even know what time it is?"

"Eh, you were awake anyway." The girl waves a hand dismissively as if she hadn't just suggested that she had somehow known that Aradia was already awake in her apartment and Aradia bristles when her grin widens. "Besides, I don't need to know what time it is..." She pauses and tilts her head to the side, the same shark-toothed, shit-eatinggrin still plastered on her face. “You do."

Aradia stares at the girl incredulously. "What?" But before she can say anything else, the stranger standing outside Aradia's apartment throws her head back and cackles, the sound reminding Aradia of an honest-to-God witch. It makes her feel as if the other girl has just told the funniest joke in the world and she isn't in on it. She shifts uncomfortably, fighting the urge to look away. She can't really explain it, but something about this whole situation is starting to make her kind of nervous.

"Huh? Oh. You don't need to know about any of that stuff yet. Don't worry about it. Besides, my job isn't to explain anything to you." She lifts the pizza box and waggles her eyebrows. "Delivering this pizza is."

Aradia can't do much else but stare at the girl in silence, hoping she'll get the hint to elaborate a little, but once it's clear she isn't going to get anything else out of her, she sighs deeply. "Fine." She takes the pizza box and the delivery girl immediately turns around and hurries back down the hall without another word. "Wait!" Aradia calls after her. "Don't I need to pay for this?" But by the time she finishes her question, the girl's long gone.

What is going on today? Aradia rubs her eyes and retreats back into her apartment, where she drops the pizza onto her kitchen table and regards it skeptically. Who the hell would send her a pizza at 3 o’clock in the goddamn morning? She goes through a mental list of her friends and sighs, shaking her head. The morons she chooses to surround herself with have pulled some pretty ludicrous pranks in the amount of time she's known them, but she can't think of anybody she knows who would even consider doing something this bizarre. They know something like this would just piss her off. No, this wasn't a prank. It was something else.

A weird, incredibly annoying gift from a secret admirer, maybe? ...No. Aradia has to bite her lip to keep from laughing out loud and she rejects the thought as fast as it had formed. The possibilities of _that_ being the case are laughably slim. So, no. That's not it either.

...Fuck.

Looking at the pizza box, she decides that it doesn't _really_ matter who ordered the pizza or why... does it? Sure, she's well aware that it's a pretty odd scenario, her standing in her kitchen at 3:20 in the morning mulling over an unanticipated pizza delivery, but at this point who gives a shit? It's pizza. It's free. She isn't going to be able to go back to sleep anytime soon. So fuck it. At the end of the day, free pizza is free pizza. She's going to eat it.

She sits down and lifts the lid off the box. The first thing she notices is that the pizza looks and smells heavenly. Whoever ordered this somehow knew her favorite toppings. The second thing she notices is the small, crisp envelope sitting on top of the pizza. She frowns and picks it up gingerly by the corner, examining it carefully. When she sees her name, written in big, neat letters, her eyebrows shoot up. Alarms are going off in her brain and she wonders if maybe she shouldn't see what's inside. Maybe she should just throw it and the pizza away and forget this whole thing ever happened. Or, hey, maybe she's just high. Maybe she's tripping. This has got to be some sort of insane fever dream or a really fucking weird trip. At least that would explain that weird girl who somehow knows her name and where she lives coming to her apartment complex at 3 in the morning and showing up at her door with a pizza she didn't order, right? ... _Right?_

Wrong. Aradia sighs. She pokes the pizza crust with her nail. It’s all way too real to just be a crazy hallucination. Somehow that makes it worse and all the worst possible scenarios flit through her mind.

Oh God, what if it’s the Mob? She blanches. She knows her older sister has gotten into all sorts of hot water with crime syndicates in the past, but she thought she was done with that life.

She’s starting to think she really shouldn’t open it, but her fingers are drifting towards it anyway. Her curiosity trumps her better judgement and she opens it anyway.

Dearest Aradia,

I do hope this message reaches you well. Although I suppose I don't need to hope, do I? No, I suppose I don't. I already know you're perfectly fine, just as well as I already know that you'll receive my delivery and that you'll read this note. Still, for the sake of maintaining good manners, I do hope you're doing well. Now, that's enough pleasantries, don't you think? Let's get to business.

At the time you are receiving and reading this message, from your current place in time and space, we haven't met. You don't yet know who I am, but that's alright. We had to start somewhere, and that 'somewhere' just so happens to be here and now. With that all cleared up, let me introduce myself. Who I am exactly is not yet important. All you need to know for now is that I'm the one responsible for creating and maintaining the aspects that keep your universe as well as many other universes from falling into disarray and subsequently imploding. I’m also the one who is going to be responsible for that subsequent implosion, which, from your standpoint in time, will be rather soon.

That's right, dear girl. Armaggedon is imminent. The apocalypse is arising and your universe is nearing its final destination. But you can stop it. Well, you and many others. You all have different sets of unique abilities that should prove useful. You are my chosen ones.

Now, if I remember this correctly, you aren't going to believe me. That's fine. Understandable, even, which is why I'm going to give you a little something that should invoke some trust in me. What I'm going to give you is information. Humor me for a moment, will you? By the time you finish reading this exact sentence, it will be Wednesday, June 12 at 3:59 in the morning.

Aradia gapes for a moment at the page in front of her before snapping out of her stunned stupor. She checks the time and swears she can feel her stomach drop. The creepy letter got the time right, day and everything, even down to the minute.

You're still a little skeptical, which, again, is understandable. In fact, I actually admire you for your skepticism. Not everybody is as logical and level headed as you, my dear. However, as much as I'd like to discuss with you at length those various admirable qualities which you are in possession of (and there are indeed many), we simply do not have the time for such a venture right now. Soon enough you'll have all the time you could ever need. That day will come, but for now, we need to move on. And in regards to your skepticism... well, there will be plenty more reasons for you to trust me in the coming days, I promise you.

So here's how you're going to save the world. You need to contact a young man by the name of Dave Strider. From here on out, he's going to be your partner. Your partnership will be mutually beneficial. On your own, you are each incredibly gifted, but together you could be unstoppable. You'll need each other's talents if you are to succeed. So, your instructions for now are to reach out to Mr. Strider via the Pesterchum chat client. His chumhandle is turntechGodhead [TG]. Once you've found it, you're to relay this and only this message to him, or else he won't know who you are or if he can trust you: "Dream on Derse. Stabilize the timeloops. Caledfwlch not important."

Once you're in contact with him, he'll be able to give you the information you need to complete your next task, and once that task is completed, you both are to await further instruction.

Good day and good luck.

Jesus fuck. Aradia drops the paper as if it were on fire. What is even happening right now? Her stomach churns and she feels sick, but she still finds herself pulling up the Pesterchum app on her phone with shaking fingers. She barely even registers herself typing in this Dave Strider character's handle into the search bar and pulling up a new message window.

\-- apocalypseArisen [AA] began pestering turntechGodhead [TG] \--

AA: dream on derse. stabilize the timeloops. caledfwlch not important.   
TG: holy shit   
TG: ok im guessing youre aradia   
AA: yes   
TG: im dave   
AA: hi dave   
TG: so you got one of those weird ass letters too huh   
TG: tough shit right   
TG: the whole end of the world thing i mean   
TG: although purely based off of your handle id say that youre pretty into the whole doomsday thing   
TG: apocalypse arisen   
TG: what does that even mean lol   
TG: dude i hate to break it to you but the apocalypse is gonna be pretty fucking arisen pretty fucking soon   
TG: which kinda really fucking sucks if you ask me   
TG: i mean you probably think it sucks too unless you can see into the future or something   
TG: oh shit wait can you   
TG: the letter i got said some bullshit like we all have unique gifts maybe yours is telling the future i mean who knows not me i dont even know my own gift   
TG: honestly being able to see the future would be pretty dope just think about it youd be able to get up to some pretty cool shit if you had that power   
TG: trust me im an expert on cool and i can pretty much guarantee that being able to see the future is such a cool superpower no one would even be able to use it itd be frozen so solid from how cool it is   
TG: youd be alex browning in this shit yknow all final destination ominous visions of a horrible, impending doom thats looming over you and your friends   
TG: hey man whats up are you alright oh yeah for sure dude dont worry about it im just having hyperrealistic prophetic visions of my friends and i dying in the most horrifying brutal ways conceivable just the usual no biggie thanks for asking   
AA: 0_0   
TG: oh my god   
TG: fuck   
TG: im so sorry   
AA: um   
TG: shit no im really actually sorry i have an issue with rambling and not thinking about what im saying and when im stressed its even worse and i end up saying the worst things i promise im not actually as insensitive as i seem   
AA: its fine   
TG: no but is it really   
AA: yes its really fine   
AA: i dont actually mind   
AA: it was sort of funny! in um a really macabre way   
AA: but its fine dont worry   
AA: and youre right i am kind of into the whole doomsday thing   
AA: or at least i was   
AA: honestly as of tonight i might be a little less into it   
TG: oh   
TG: uh   
TG: cool   
TG: i think   
AA: 0u0   
TG: haha   
AA: so should we talk about it then   
AA: i was told youd have information for me on what to do next   
TG: oh   
TG: right   
AA: ???   
TG: uh   
TG: ok honestly dude i know this is gonna sound really fucking gay and i dont want to come off as soft or whatever because even though i told you i can be sensitive i kinda only said that because i panicked and i didnt know what else to say   
AA: its alright just say it   
AA: i wont judge   
TG: i just dont really want to talk about uh   
TG: that   
TG: right now you know what i mean   
AA: oh   
TG: i mean obviously im gonna give you the instructions im supposed to pass along because itd be kinda a dick move not to   
TG: but i just dont want to talk about the apocalyptic thing   
AA: sure of course!   
TG: or even like think about it   
AA: no yeah i totally get what you mean   
AA: to be honest i dont really want to think about it either   
AA: i mean its been a weird fucking day   
AA: i woke up at like 3 in the morning scared shitless because of some nightmare i had that i couldnt even remember when i woke up just that i was scared and i dont mean to brag but i dont get scared over nothing   
AA: and then right as i had calmed down i got loud ass knock on my door so i had to get up and deal with that and it was some girl with red glasses and a pizza box   
AA: and lo and behold what was in that pizza box?   
AA: that dumbass letter that broke it to me not so gently that the fucking world is going to end   
AA: so   
AA: yeah i dont really want to talk about it right now either   
TG: thats good to hear   
TG: wait shit no not all the weird shit that happened to you today that sucks   
TG: i meant that you dont want to talk about it right now either thats good to hear   
AA: haha yeah i got that   
TG: ok   
TG: good   
AA: good   
TG: i mean were obviously gonna have to talk about it eventually   
TG: no use in pretending like were not   
AA: yeah   
TG: just   
TG: not now   
AA: its okay im sure well know what to do when the time comes where we actually need to talk about it   
TG: yeah   
AA: yeah   
TG: yeah   
AA: ...   
TG: ok shit sorry   
TG: my bad lol   
TG: basically my creepy letter got me in touch with someone else before you and she told me to get yall together or whatever once you got in touch with me   
TG: tbh im not sure why we have to do this whole beating around the bush thing to get in touch with the others   
TG: its kind of stupid in my opinion but whatever   
TG: who am i to argue with the big bossman   
TG: or bosswoman   
TG: no discriminating based on sex here   
TG: were all-inclusive here yknow what i mean   
TG: ok anyways   
\-- turntechGodhead [TG] has linked gardenGnostic [GG]'s handle --   
TG: her names jade and i guess youre supposed to meet up with her or something   
TG: like   
TG: in person   
AA: in person?   
TG: yeah i guess   
AA: what about you?   
AA: will you be there?   
TG: nah   
AA: what? why?   
TG: idk man i was told that it had to just be you   
TG: im sure jade will explain it all to you though   
AA: oh   
TG: yeah so   
TG: thats all i have for now   
TG: you should probably message jade   
AA: oh uh yeah   
AA: yeah i probably should huh?   
TG: haha yeah   
AA: heh   
AA: ...   
AA: do you want to talk later?   
TG: for sure dude   
TG: ill catch you later

\-- turntechGodhead [TG] ceased pestering apocalypseArisen [AA] \--

Aradia stays where she is for a good while, staring at the messages between her and Dave until her phone goes dark and eventually shuts off from lack of use. She furrows her eyebrows. There's no way this is some sort of prank, right? It's just too elaborate. It involves too many people. People she doesn't even _know,_ so it’s very unlikely that this is all some stupid joke at her expense.

She swallows thickly and turns her phone back on. If it isn't a joke then that means it's all real. Her thumb hovers over the handle that Dave had linked to her. If it's all real then that means the end of the world is _imminent_. Is that really something that Aradia wants to believe? And even if she did believe it, would that be such a bad thing? The world sucks. Maybe things would be better off if humanity was just wiped out and the planet had a clean slate. Aradia sighs and taps the linked chumhandle.

\-- apocalypseArisen [AA] began pestering gardenGnostic [GG] \--

AA: hi   
AA: is this jade?   
AA: dave sent me   
GG: hi aradia!!!! :)

Either way, she's interested. She'll play into this crazy game. For now.

*******

**Tuesday** , **November 6, 1:35 p.m.**  
 **Seven months earlier**

Two young women sit in a room, refusing to look at each other. One of these young women has all the answers. The other only thinks she has all the answers.

You are the latter.

You have just finished a rather taxing meditation session and you aren’t exactly pleased with the results. You’ve known for a while now what your purpose is to be in these coming months, but as of late nothing seems to be going according to plan and your mentor is apparently otherwise occupied. He’s always been rather difficult to contact, but over the past few weeks you’ve found it to be near impossible. He is simply unreachable.

How long has it been now since you’ve seen anyone else besides the girl across the room from you? Talked to anyone else besides her or your mentor? You frown. Too long.

You’ve been stuck in the same house for about two months now as part of some absurd training regimen. It’s absolutely ridiculous, in your opinion, but, as much as you’d like to be, you aren’t in charge.

“Thinking again?” A voice you’ve come to detest cuts through what was a welcome silence.

You finally look at her and allow yourself a moment to study her angular features before responding. Your current partner is an oddity, to put it frankly, right down to the way she sits. Right now she’s crouching a few feet away from you, leaning on her cane, that rather silly cape of hers slung around her bony shoulders with the dragon head hood up and casting shadows on her face.

“Sure,” you say at last, not willing to share much more. Unfortunately for you, she always seems to know exactly what’s going on in your head. It’s uncanny and unnerving. You keep your tone flat and uninterested, hoping she’ll get the hint even though you know very well she never does.

“Want to know what I saw?”

Oh. That gets your attention. Although you receive more visions between the two of you, she is definitely more powerful. It isn’t often she has meditational visions, so when she does, they’re always important.

“What was it?” You ask, struggling to hide your eagerness and to keep a neutral tone.

“I talked to him.” Your breath hitches and she grins. She knows she’s got your attention now. “Seven months,” she says, “and then I’m going to Chicago and you’re going back to the northeast.”

You release a breath you didn’t know you were holding. Seven more months of semi-isolation, huh? It’s longer than you’d expected, but you suppose it’s doable.

You turn away and study the light pouring through the window. _Just think of how strong you’ll be when it’s all over_ , you tell yourself.

“And what,” you turn back to her, “will I be doing in the northeast?”

She smiles.

*******

**Sometime in the distant future**

Your name is unimportant.

You have just brutally murdered a young woman in her dingy little Chicago apartment. It was horrific, even to your standards. You were told to make it look like a suicide, but… well, there’s no way people are gonna look at the bloodbath in front of you and think that this chump offed herself. Luckily, you can make anyone think anything you want.

This is all nasty business, really. You’re talking screaming, cursing, blood everywhere, fighting back. The whole shebang. But someone has to do it and that someone just so happens to be you.

Besides, you do what you have to in order to survive, right? And survival’s just the tip of the iceberg, honestly. It’s victory you’re after, and if you have to get a few suckers out of the way _permanently_ , then so be it. You’ll do whatever you need to so that you can come out on top. And you _will_ come out on top.


	2. Intermission I

**Saturday, June 8, 2:17 p.m.**  
**Houston, Texas**

\-- turntechGodhead [TG] began pestering gardenGnostic [GG] \--  
TG: yo  
TG: wait fuck  
TG: that wasnt what i was supposed to say i fucked that up  
TG: ignore that  
TG: uhh  
TG: you know what this is really embarrassing but i sort of forgot what i was supposed to say  
TG: so i hope that doesnt matter  
GG: hehehe its okay  
GG: hi!!!  
GG: dave right????  
GG: im jade :D  
TG: oh  
TG: yeah sup  
TG: i was told by some weird ominous letter to talk to you  
TG: any idea what thats about?  
GG: yep! i got a letter too  
TG: oh sick so do you know whats up with all that  
GG: hmm unfortunately i do not :/  
GG: well  
GG: er  
GG: you see the thing is i kinda do  
GG: but i also dont  
TG: what  
GG: hehehe sorry!  
GG: what i mean is i do know certain things but i dont really know how i know them!!!  
GG: just that i do  
GG: you know what i mean??  
TG: uh  
TG: sure  
GG: lol  
TG: so my letter said you had a task for me  
TG: or something equally as stupid sounding as that  
TG: god the word task is so stupid  
TG: you ever think about how stupid that word is?  
GG: hehehe!  
GG: yeah i guess that word is kinda stupid!  
GG: :)  
TG: right on  
GG: want to know your task?  
GG: or whatever you want to call it thatll make it sound cooler  
TG: sup  
TG: hit me  
GG: okay!! so a girl named aradia is going to message you in aboooouuutttt  
GG: um  
GG: sorry one sec!!  
GG: i forgot what im supposed to say lol  
TG: no worries dude  
TG: im chillin  
TG: youre chillin  
TG: were all just getting our chill on so s'all good  
GG: hehe  
GG: anyways aradia is going to message you in about 4 days  
GG: shes supposed to be your partner i guess?  
GG: i dont know her chumhandle but youll know its her because her first message will be "dream on derse. stabilize the timeloops. caledfwlch not important."  
TG: the fuck?  
TG: dude what does any of that even mean  
GG: im honestly not sure  
GG: but something tells me itll be important eventually!!!  
TG: haha alright  
TG: ill take your word for it  
GG: hehehe  
GG: well anyways i hate to cut this so short but i have to go :(  
GG: duty calls!!  
GG: (i have to go to work lol)  
TG: dont worry about it  
TG: we can always talk later  
TG: i mean if you want  
TG: just like text me if you ever wanna talk or whatever  
GG: :)  
GG: aw man i can already tell youre sooo cool hehe  
TG: yeah im pretty cool i guess  
GG: bye dave!!!! ill message you later  
TG: later dude  
\-- gardenGnostic [GG] ceased pestering turntechGodhead [TG] \--  



	3. You’re not supposed to be here.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aradia orders a coffee.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tw: mild gore & Bro Strider

**Thursday** , **June 13, 10:25 a.m.**  
**Chicago, Illinois**

The girl sitting across from Aradia doesn’t exactly look like the type of person who knows what she’s talking about.

Aradia taps her fingers against the ceramic coffee mug in her hands and leans back in her seat, surveying the girl in question carefully from under her eyelashes. She’s got a thick mane of black hair pulled back haphazardly into a ponytail, large front teeth that almost poke out over her bottom lip, and big green eyes that are bright and at the same time rimmed by deep purple bags. She somehow looks like she’s both ready to spring into action and ready to fall asleep at any moment.

She frowns, but she’s certain she’s got the right person. The girl’s name tag does read ‘JADE’ in loopy, feminine handwriting after all. She takes a cautious sip of her coffee, nose scrunching up immediately as she tries not to gag and spit it out.

 _Bluh._ Aradia pulls a face. It’s bitter.

Despite Aradia’s best efforts to hide her disgust, Jade takes notice and digs around in her apron for a moment before passing a few sugar packets over to Aradia, a sheepish smile on her face.

“Sorry about that,” she says. “I’m not used to the coffee machines here quite yet.”

Aradia ordered her coffee black. It shouldn’t have been that difficult, and black coffee isn’t exactly renowned for being incredibly appetizing in the first place, but this is still somehow the worst coffee Aradia has ever had. She doesn’t say anything. Instead, she nods and smiles amicably, ripping the sugar packets open and carefully sprinkling some into the mug.

“So tell me about yourself,” Jade says, propping her elbows up on the table and leaning forwards.

Aradia lifts an eyebrow. “What is this, speed dating?” She asks coolly before immediately wincing, realizing how rude that had sounded.

She doesn’t try to apologize.

Jade smiles, but the action doesn’t seem to reach her eyes. She looks tired. “You’re right,” she says, her tone almost apologetic but not quite. Aradia doesn’t mind. “I’m just trying to lighten the mood. But I understand.”

Guilt flickers through Aradia and settles in her stomach, coiling like a snake waiting to strike. She looks down at her coffee, frowning into the dark liquid. She really has no right to snap at this girl she’s just met, especially after she’s been nothing but kind to her in the few minutes they’ve been at the diner. She sighs.

“No,” Aradia says, “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that, it was rude, and you’re just being nice, which I really do appreciate, by the way. I’ve just… I don’t know, I’ve just been feeling so _weird_ lately, but that’s no excuse. So I’m sorry.”

She’s met with another smile from Jade, but this one feels more genuine. There’s a flash of white teeth and her whole face seems to brighten. Her smile is infectious and Aradia can’t help but smile back, somewhat shyly.

“Don’t worry about it,” Jade says, her tone gentle and understanding. “I know what you mean. Things in this universe are beginning to get a little funky and those of us who are gifted are definitely more susceptible to these changes than pretty much everyone else in the world is.”

Something about Jade’s words prods at the coiled snake of guilt in Aradia’s stomach and she is instantly reminded of her place in the universe and the imminent doom they are evidently facing and must somehow stave off in order to ensure the continuity of mankind. There’s still something she doesn’t quite understand.

“Gifted,” Aradia repeats, her words slow and uncertain, “I keep hearing that. But what does it mean?”

Jade exhales softly and looks off to the side, rolling her bottom lip between her teeth. “Er, you know.”

“No,” Aradia deadpans, “I don’t know.”

Jade sighs. “Look,” she says, “I can’t tell you everything because that isn’t my job. And before you ask, no, I don’t know why or how or who or what or when. I don’t know any specifics, I only know what I’m told in my sleep, but that’s the way it has to be. And as for our gifts, I _really_ can’t tell you everything, That’s something you need to find out for yourself. But what I can tell you is that you have the unique ability to, er, to commune with the spirits of the dead and that, with time and practice, you could even be able to control them.”

Aradia stares at the girl sitting across from her, feeling once again as if she’s looking at some sort of alien. She blinks.

“You’re kidding,” she says.

Jade shakes her head. “I’m not.”

Aradia waits a beat, letting that settle in. Then, “That’s fucked up!” She whisper shouts, leaning across the table as if getting in the poor girl’s personal space is in any way helpful. “It’s fucked up, Jade! It is literally fucking insane. I can’t talk to dead people! What the fuck do you think I am? Some kind of psychic? What is this, the Sixth Sense? I see dead people type shit?”

“Umm, actually,” Jade mumbles, “you _do_ have a form of psychic abilities. Most of us do. Yours are just… very… er, _ominous_ , I guess is a good way to put it.” She meets your eyes and almost immediately looks away again, sighing and dragging her hands down her face tiredly. “Everyone gets their information from somewhere. You just happen to get yours from the dead.”

Aradia slowly pulls away and sits upright in her seat once again. Her face has gone still and impassive. It sounds insane. This all sounds utterly fucking batshit insane, but at the same time it… it makes sense.

It’s Aradia’s turn to look away and she focuses her eyes on a small stain on the linoleum floor of the diner. She remembers a long time ago, back when her sister still had custody of her, she saw something that had scarred her for life. What she saw all those years ago was unexplainable. There was no logical explanation for it and it had terrified her. Growing up, Aradia was always the brave one, always the one who laughed in the face of danger. But what Aradia had seen that day was like nothing she had ever seen before or since. It was petrifying.

It must have been around nine years ago now. She couldn’t have been more than ten. Her parents were dead and they had been for a few years. She lived in an old house with just her older sister to care for her, but Damara never was a particularly nurturing individual. In fact, it was as if Damara did everything in her power to _avoid_ having to care for Aradia.

Much of Aradia’s time back then was spent in the basement alone. She liked it down there. It was dark, quiet, peaceful. There were also cool things to be found, whether they were bugs, old rat bones, or just interesting antiques that had belonged to previous owners of the house. One day, Aradia was down in the basement like usual when she suddenly felt the strangest sensation of being watched. She remembers it like it was yesterday, how cold she suddenly felt, and the chills that ran up and down her spine. And when she looked up, she locked eyes with a man who had no hands. His face was gaunt, stretched thin over the sharp bones of his skull, and his eyes were red and bloodshot. He had reached out to Aradia with both arms, blood dripping off the mangled stumps where his hands should have been onto the floor in thick strings as he stumbled towards her, muttering incomprehensibly under his breath before suddenly stopping in his tracks, looking Aradia right in the eye, and yelling a horrible, anguished cry at the top of his lungs. It terrified Aradia so badly that she had turned and ran upstairs, slamming the basement door shut. She never went into the basement of that house again, haunted by the memories of the man she had seen.

Aradia lifts her gaze back up to Jade, who’s looking at her with a sympathetic expression. She swallows. “Say I.... say I was able to… say I did have this ability,” she says, eyes wide and searching. Jade nods at her encouragingly. “How would I do it?”

*******

**Seven years earlier**  
**???**

Your name is Dave Strider and you’re not supposed to be here.

You aren’t sure how you know that or why, but you are sure you’ve been here before and that you aren’t supposed to be here now. Your surroundings are unsettlingly familiar and you’re certain you know where you are, but every time what you think must be a significant memory starts to surface, it disappears almost immediately back into the murky depths of your mind’s deepest corners before you can pin it down. It’s frustrating, to say the least. And to say the most, it’s frightening.

But you’ve never been one to let your fear get in your way. You don’t roll that way. That’s just not how you are.

Other than the bleary certainty that you’ve been here (wherever ‘here’ is, anyway) before, you also feel odd. Undescriptive, you know, but there really isn’t any other way to describe it. There’s a strange sensation of weightlessness in your body while at the same time it’s almost as if you can actually _feel_ every single atom in your body lighting up and buzzing and whirring around like your body is some kind of fucked up pinball machine. That being said, it isn’t an especially unpleasant feeling and it’s not at all painful. It’s just… odd.

You think about calling out, asking if anybody’s here, but a sudden sense of Déjà vu crashes into you like a wave. It’s so strong it almost makes you topple over and when a feeling of dread settles in the pit of your stomach, you decide that it’s probably best you _don’t_ call out.

Your head sort of hurts, you realize numbly, and in the very back of your mind is a constant, laborious ticking noise.

 _Like a clock._

While aimlessly creeping through the building you somehow ended up in, you notice a staircase leading to a doorway labeled ‘roof’. You freeze and the dread that has settled in your stomach freezes with you, turning to ice and spreading through your veins.

Oh, you’ve been here before, alright. And you never in a million years thought that you would be back.

Harsh memories of a past you’ve worked tirelessly to bury flash through your head, one painful reminder after another, but you still find yourself climbing the stairs and approaching the door. The ticking in your head continues. You rest your hand on the door handle and a prickle goes up your spine, causing you to shudder and the hair on the back of your neck to stand up. But you need to open it. You need to see.

You open the door and step out onto the roof of your childhood apartment.

Your eyes widen behind your shades and for a moment you’re too shocked to move. _How is this possible?_ But luckily your fight or flight kicks in at the last second and you throw yourself against the wall, concealing your presence right before _he_ turns around.

After waiting a few seconds and willing your heartbeat to return to normal, you decide you’re safe for now and you cautiously peek around the corner of the wall. You watch, frozen with fear, as your older brother, looking no different than he did the last time you saw him nearly six years ago, looms over a kid who looks exactly like a younger version of yourself. A sense of Déjà vu returns and your lips part in surprise and shock.

 _This isn’t possible_ , you think, even as you’re flooded with memories of being in that kid’s position--of being that kid--while your bro towered over you menacingly, shitty anime sword in one hand and one of those god awful puppets in the other. Your head is pounding in tempo with your heartbeat, the ticking sound growing louder and louder.

You swallow, unable to look away as past you makes a feeble attempt at flashstepping out of Bro’s trajectory. You watch as past you stumbles and trips over his own untied shoelaces. God, what a fucking idiot. It was a mistake you remember well and one you were sure to never make again.

Bro plants a swift kick into your past self’s side and you feel a phantom pain throb numbly in the exact same place. That kick had fractured two of your ribs, but your brother didn’t stop there. He never did.

You keep watching the onslaught your brother is unleashing on past you, finally looking away and squeezing your eyes shut when he drags his sword all the way down your younger self's back. The smell of blood is overwhelming and the faint cries of pain are almost too much for you to bear. The long, jagged scar on your back flares painfully and all you can think is that you need to leave, that you need to get the fuck out of there _right now_ before Bro sees you.

When you open your eyes, you’re standing in your dorm room. You aren’t feeling that overbearing sense of Déjà vu anymore, or that strange out of body sensation, and the smell of blood has disappeared without a trace, but your knees still give out. You crumble to the floor anyways, where you stay for a long time, your head full of bloodstained swords and clocks running backward. 

*******

**Thursday, June 13, 2:16 p.m.**  
**Chicago, Illinois**

Your name is Aradia Megido and you can’t believe you’re standing in the middle of a toy store trying to decide which ouija board is the least ridiculous looking.

 _You need an ouija board,_ Jade had said. _T_ _alk to the spirits,_ isn't that what she had said? What a load of crap.

You scoff loudly to no one in particular, earning yourself a strange look from a little girl who edges away from you carefully. You pay her no mind. What's a kid doing in the occult section of the toy store, anyhow? You have more important things to worry about than little freaks who like to spend their time perusing ways to commune with the fucking dead... nevermind the fact that that's quite literally what _you're_ doing. At least you have a reason to be interested in such morbid things.

With an exasperated sigh, you snatch the box closest to you and hurry to the front of the store, anxious to check out and get the hell out of there. 

"Rough day?" The cashier doesn't look like they particularly care.

"Something like that," you say and take the plastic shopping bag from the cashier's outstretched hand primly.

The air outside is cool. Too cool for a June afternoon. You pause outside the store and a chill crawls up your spine, causing you to shiver and the hair on your arms to raise. You look around. No one else seems to have noticed the strange chill. Something tugs at the back of your mind and a feeling of unease settles over you. For some inexplicable reason, you can't seem to shake the feeling that you're being watched. You look around again but no one is paying you any attention. You shake your head. It must be the stupid ouija board. You're just psyching yourself out.

The walk to your apartment is short and uneventful, paranoia notwithstanding. Once inside, you toss your keys and the shopping bag onto your kitchen counter carelessly, deciding to ignore the board for now. You aren't the most superstitious person in the world, but even you know that playing around with something like an ouija board can bring about unwarranted consequences. The spirits can wait, you decide and make a beeline straight to your bathroom. You believe a nice, hot bubble bath is in order.

You settle down into the tub, tension releasing from your body as soon as you’re submerged in the hot water. You sigh contentedly and lean back, eyes closed. How did your life come to this? You feel as if you aren’t even in control of anything anymore. 

You open your eyes. 

You’re standing in your kitchen, naked. Water drips from your hair onto the floor. There’s a shallow puddle around your feet and a trail of water behind you, leading into the bathroom. The door is open. 

Your eyes zero in on the kitchen counter, where the ouija board is set up, surrounded by lit candles, candles you don’t even own. The shopping bag is nowhere in sight. 

You blink. 

You’re standing over the ouija board, your hands hovering over the planchette. Your fingertips graze the surface. 

Everything goes dark.


	4. Intermission II

**Friday, August 2, 9:17 p.m.**  
**???**

\-- arachnidsGrip [AG] began pestering gallowsCalibrator [GC] \--  
AG: Hey loser.  
GC: UGH  
GC: WH4T DO YOU W4NT  
AG: Oh, come on.  
AG: Is that any way to greet your old pal?  
GC: CUT TH3 SH1T  
GC: WH4T DO YOU W4NT  
AG: I wasn't aware I had to have a reason to reach out to you.  
AG: May8e I just enjoy your company, didn't you ever think a8out that?  
GC: OH PL34S3  
GC: SP4R3 M3 TH3 TH34TR1CS  
GC: 3V3RYON3 KNOWS WH4T 4 S3LF-S3RV1NG B1TCH YOU 4R3  
GC: YOU W4NT SOM3TH1NG. WH4T 1S 1T?  
AG: Hah!  
AG: You're smarter than I remem8er! ::::)  
AG: You're right, I do want something. 8ut this time it won't just 8enefit me.  
AG: I think you'll find that this could be gr8tly 8eneficial for the 8oth of us.  
GC: DOUBTFUL  
AG: Oh, please.  
AG: Give me a 8reak, would you?  
GC: FOR THE LOV3 OF GOD JUST G3T ON W1TH 1T  
GC: 1 H4V3 MOR3 1MPORT4NT TH1NGS TO DO TH4N S1T 4ROUND L1ST3N1NG TO YOUR NONS3NS1C4L CR4P  
AG: Ouch. A little feisty today, are we????????  
AG: And here I was thinking we were friends!  
GC: YOU'V3 GOT TO B3 JOK1NG  
GC: FR13NDS???  
GC: R34LLY?  
GC: DON'T M4K3 M3 L4UGH  
AG: You wound me, Terezi.  
GC: FUCK YOU  
GC: WH4T DO YOU W4NT  
AG: I need to see you.  
AG: ........  
AG: ????????  
AG: Helloooooooo????????  
AG: Are you still there?  
GC: SORRY  
GC: TH4T W4S 4 GOOD ON3  
GC: R34LLY FUNNY  
GC: H3Y, YOU GOT 4NY MOR3 JOK3S L1K3 TH4T?  
AG: I'm serious.  
AG: I need to see you.  
GC: GO FUCK YOURS3LF  
AG: Terezi, listen.  
AG: I'm 8eing dead serious.  
AG: 8ad things will happen if I don't see you.  
GC: 1S TH4T SUPPOS3D TO B3 SOM3 K1ND OF THR3AT?  
AG: No!  
AG: For God's sake, Terezi, would you just listen to me for once?  
GC: B4D TH1NGS W1LL H4PP3N R3G4RDL3SS  
AG: Okay, yes. That's true, 8ut don't you want to at least give yourself some kind of chance?  
GC: 4 CH4NC3 FOR WH4T?  
GC: SURV1V4L???  
GC: DON'T PL4Y DUMB YOU'R3 SM4RT3R TH4N TH1S  
GC: YOU 4ND 1 BOTH KNOW WH4T'S GO1NG TO H4PP3N  
AG: ...  
GC: 1 S4W 1T, VR1SK4  
GC: 1 S4W WH4T YOU'R3 GO1NG TO DO  
GC: 1'V3 S33N 1T 4ND 1 KNOW YOU'V3 S33N 1T TOO  
AG: I'm sorry.  
GC: Y34H  
GC: 1 KNOW  
AG: Really.  
AG: I am sorry.  
GC: YOU WON'T H4V3 4NY OTH3R CHO1C3  
GC: 1T'S OK4Y  
AG: Is it?  
GC: 1T W1LL 4LL WORK OUT  
AG: That haughty 8itch you got stuck with tell you that?  
AG: She doesn't know shit, Rezi.  
AG: Seriously.  
GC: 1 N33D TO GO  
AG: I need to see you.  
GC: VR1SK4...  
AG: No, I know.  
AG: Trust me, I know.  
AG: I wouldn't ask this of you unless it was important.  
AG: You know that, right?  
GC: F1N3  
GC: ON MY T3RMS  
\-- gallowsCalibrator [GC] ceased pestering arachnidsGrip [AG] \--  



End file.
